CHAPTER VIII
SAMUEL PLAYS A NEW GAME
The next morning Laurie awoke from troubled dreams with a vague feelingthat life was getting a rise out of him, a feeling that the absentmorning greeting of Rodney Bangs did not help to dissipate.
Without realizing it, young Devon had rather sunned himself in theadulation of his chum. When this adulation was removed, he missed it;and for the present, at least, there was no question that adulation waslacking.
Not that Bangs failed in any of the outward forms of friendship, but hismanner had changed. He was increasingly preoccupied. When Laurie spoke,Bangs had the effect of coming to him from a long distance, and even ofhaving one foot extended, as it were, for the return journey.
The two young men breakfasted together, for the first time in severaldays; and over their coffee and cigarettes Laurie confided to his friendhis new anxiety about Mrs. Ordway.
Bangs at once became human. Indeed, he showed a degree of solicitudethat surprised his friend. It was suddenly clear that Rodney was vastlyinterested in Louise. He had even ventured to call on her, though Lauriedid not yet know this; for the first call was made, as it happened, onthe afternoon of the day when the two young men had indulged in theirfirst serious quarrel.
Bangs, usually the most modest and self-conscious of youths, hadabruptly lost his shyness under the urge of a need to talk about hischum to some one who would understand. And Louise had understood, quitesurprisingly. Recalling the long talk he and she had had, the help shehad given him, the plans they had made, Rodney grew very serious.
"It's lucky Sonya's in town," he said, when this further fact had beenrevealed. "Let's go over to the hotel and see her right after breakfast.Perhaps we ought to cable to Warren. Sonya will know."
He spoke with such studied carelessness that Laurie flashed a suddenlook at him. Under it Bangs flushed to the roots of his burnishedpompadour.
"Well, well," murmured Laurie, "this _is_ interesting! Odd I didn'tnotice it before."
Whatever "it" was, he gave his whole attention to it now. Leaningforward, he ostentatiously studied Bangs, with an expression at onceindulgent and amazed.
"A flush on his cheek, too," he mused aloud.
"Shut up!" Bangs clenched his teeth, while the flush deepened.
"Easily irritated; respiration slightly irregular, all the familiarsymptoms."
"For God's sake, Laurie, don't be an ass!" begged Bangs.
"All the familiar symptoms--of a heavy cold," murmured Laurie,sympathetically. "A hot bath and a dose of quinine might help at thisstage. But if it gets worse--" Laurie reflected, anxiously shaking hishead--"if it gets worse I'll send for Sonya," he finished brightly.
He rose, dodged the roll Rodney hurled at him, and strolled out of theroom, opening the door again to add an afterthought that suddenlyoccurred to him.
"Don't risk your life by going to the hotel, old man," he added, kindly."Take your quinine, and I will call on Sonya."
"She'll tell us whether or not to cable for Warren," repeated Bangs,with great dignity.
But Sonya, when she came into her hotel sitting-room an hour later, didnot immediately solve this problem. For the moment her mind was whollyon the Infant Samuel, who was to have his adenoids cut out that morning,and who had been encouraged to look forward to the experience as a newdelight. While they were expressing fitting interest, Samuel himselfentered the room, alone, but with all the effect of a juvenileprocession. By the left leg he dragged his most cherished possession, abattered and dim-featured rag doll. Hospitably greeting the two youngmen, he solemnly presented the doll to Bangs.
"What's this?" asked Rodney, with a friendly impulse to adapt hisconversation to the young.
"Hullen," affirmed Samuel, "Hullen, R. J."
"What does that mean?" Bangs appealed to Sonya.
"It's the doll's name. He gave it to her himself. 'Hullen,' I suppose,means Helen, and Mr. Warren's initials, you know, are R. J. EvidentlySamuel liked the sound of them."
Samuel retrieved Hullen R. J.
"Hullen R. J. go hos'tl wiv Sammy," he further announced.
"She will," corroborated Sonya. "He never stirs without her, and shesleeps in his bed every night."
Laurie turned a shocked gaze on Samuel, and Sonya laughed, then gulped.
"I'm horribly nervous this morning," she admitted. "I wish it were over.You see, a certain cherub isn't going to like matters at all after theyreally begin at the hos'tl. And his mother will be more of a burden thana help."
Bangs had an inspiration.
"Suppose I go with you," he suggested. "Then if you need a strong man tohold the cherub--"
"Two strong men," corrected Laurie. "Do you imagine that I'm going todesert Samuel in his hour of need? Besides, I've got to keep an eye onBangs," he added sweetly, and was rewarded by a glare from thatoverwrought young man.
"Noticed anything odd about Bangs lately?" Laurie asked Sonya.
She turned on Rodney the dark gaze of her serene eyes.
"Why, no."
"You will," Laurie predicted, with a mournful shake of the head. "Watchhim closely, and call on me if there are alarming symptoms that youdon't understand."
Bangs rushed into confused speech.
"He thinks I've got a cold," he gulped. "His nonsense, of course.Nothing in the world the matter with me. Er--how soon do we start?"
Laurie, helpless with laughter, rolled the ecstatic Samuel on the floor.Samuel's voice took on an added note of jubilation. Sonya, his mother,Hullen R. J., "Lawwie" and "Misser Bangs" all going with him to thehos'tl--it was almost too much pleasure! Samuel became slightlyintoxicated.
"He wants to sing," remarked Laurie, with masculine understanding of afellow heart. "All right, old man," he encouraged. "How about thatbeautiful hymn I taught you at Bab's wedding?"
With considerable help Samuel recalled the ditty:
"Hey, hey, ve gangsall here, Whalahaloo we care, Whalahaloo we care, Now--_wow_--wow--WOW--_WOW_!"
"Laurie!"
Sonya spoke with sudden austerity. "It's a relief from his mentalstrain," Laurie explained. "Any doctor will tell you that."
* * * * *
In the hos'tl, however, things assumed a different aspect. Still firmlyholding Hullen R. J. by the leg, and keeping a steadfast eye on thesurgeon, Samuel took in his immediate surroundings with a dawningsuspicion in his soul. Having two men throw lights on his face and lookdown his throat had lost its novelty, though Sonya had assured him thatwonderful views were to be seen there which he alone could reveal. Also,the men seemed hurried, and didn't want to look at Hullen R. J.'sthroat, though Samuel warmly recommended this variety in theentertainment.
In short, the situation had become sinister. The smiles around him weredreadful-looking things, all except Laurie's. With an appalling howlSamuel detached himself from the surgeon's grasp and fled to Laurie, whopicked him up and held him firmly and comfortably in his lap until alady in white came with something nice for Samuel to smell.
The next thing Samuel knew was that he was in bed in a strange room. Hegulped and discovered that his throat was sore. He sat up, distended hismouth for a yell, and then very slowly closed it.
From every corner of the room familiar figures were hastening to hisside. The lady in white, Sonya, and his mother all reached him at thesame moment. On the pillow beside him Hullen R. J. awaited the honor ofhis attention like a perfect lady. No howls from her, as Sonyaimmediately pointed out. As she thus soothed, Sonya was kissing him. Thelady in white was offering him something pleasant to drink. His motherwas patting his back.
For a long instant Samuel took in the gratifying fact of theseactivities. Then he assorted his features, grabbed Hullen R. J.,exchanged his yell for a large smile, and permitted himself to be waitedon. Deep in his masculine consciousness he had realized that his worldwas normal again.
Bangs and Laurie walked up Fifth Avenue together, stopping at aflorist's to purchase the man's entir
e supply of roses for Mrs. Ordway.Bangs also discovered some masses of poinsettia and chrysanthemums that,as he said, "looked like her." Laden with these spoils, they took ataxicab to the Ordway house, where they found Jepson exuding anatmosphere of reassurance.
Yessir, Mrs. Hordway seemed better. She 'ad a more restful night, han'Susanne said was quite bright this morning. Hof course she'd see Mr.Devon, hand prob'bly Mr. Bangs, halso. Jepson would harsk at once.
Jepson moved ponderously away to do so, while Rodney, opening his bigbox in the hall, drew out the poinsettia and chrysanthemums andproceeded to arrange them in a gorgeous armful. Bangs had unexpectedtaste in color and arrangement, as Epstein's stage-directors haddiscovered in the past. Laurie watched him with polite interest.
"Making a picture of yourself, aren't you?" he asked. "Going into thesick-room with your little hands full of flowers?" But even as hescoffed he was unwrapping his own flowers. Bangs was right. The act ofhanding a pasteboard box to a sick friend lacked esthetic value.
Jepson returned with a cordial message. Mrs. Ordway would be charmed tosee both young men, but she received only one visitor at a time. WouldMr. Bangs come up now? And perhaps Mr. Devon would drop in again duringthe afternoon or evening.
Rodney grasped his floral offerings and mounted the stairs two steps ata time. He was excited and his brown eyes showed it. It was most awfullygood of Mrs. Ordway to let him come up in this informal way. Standing bythe _chaise longue_ where she lay, he told her so, his auburn headshining among the flowers he carried, like a particularly largechrysanthemum. Then, selecting some empty vases, he sat down on thefloor beside her and began to arrange his flowers, while she watchedhim, at first with surprise, then with growing admiration.
Rodney had no social airs and graces, no parlor tricks. If he had beenformally sitting on a chair, holding his hat, he would have been aself-conscious and unhappy young man. As it was, with hands and eyesbusy, and wholly at his ease, he talked his exuberant best.
"How about Laurie's romance?" Louise asked at once.
Bangs told her about the vision in the mirror. As he did so, luncheonwas served, and he was casually invited to share it. Susanne, movingshuttle-like between the table in the sick-room and the dumb-waiter inthe upper hall, presently confided to a young footman a surprising pieceof news, which he in turn confided to the incredulous Jepson. Young Mr.Bangs, who was lunching with Mrs. Ordway, must be as amusing as youngMr. Devon himself. He had actually made the mistress laugh both times hecame. She was laughing now, as Susanne had not heard her laugh forweeks. To be sure, this was one of her good days. But it wasn't easy toamuse Mrs. Ordway at any time.
Jepson summed up the situation in an oracular utterance:
"Henny one that's a friend of Mr. Devon's his hall right."
When Rodney was leaving, Jepson's mistress expressed the same thought toher guest in a different way.
"Come often," she said. "You have given me a new interest. I don't thinkyou can quite realize what that means to me."
When Sonya arrived at five that afternoon, she found Jepson stillexuding reassurance. With two doctors within call, a nurse in the house,and Mr. Devon and Miss Orleneff to telephone to at a moment's notice,"nothink much could 'appen." So reasoned Jepson. He beamed approvinglyon Sonya, informed her that Mr. Devon was in the sick-room now, andwaved her through the hall with an effect of benediction.
She found Laurie just leaving, and they had a moment's chat on the upperlanding. Mrs. Ordway, he told her, was rather restless this afternoon,but she seemed better than she had been yesterday. However, he didn'tlike her looks at all, and he fancied the nurse was disturbed. SupposeSonya sounded Louise about cabling for Warren? Surely Warren would wantto know, Laurie thought.
For the moment Laurie's striking good looks were slightly dimmed. He washollow-eyed, almost haggard. Things were coming just a bit too fast forhim. The habit of carrying the burden of others had been taken on toosuddenly. Under the strain of it, his untrained mental muscles ached.
It was the irony of fate that Sonya, looking at him with the clear browneyes that were so much softer than Bangs's, and so much less beautifulthan Doris's, should misinterpret his appearance, his emotion, and hisreaction from the high spirits of the morning. He was again going thepace, she decided; and, mingled with her pity for him, rose the scorn ofa strong soul that was the absolute master of the body in which itdwelt.
His newly aroused perception carried some hint of this scorn to the boy,covered though it was by the friendliness of Sonya's manner. Theknowledge added to his wretchedness. He had a childish desire toexplain, but he conquered it and hurried away. Some day, if not now,Sonya would understand.
What he himself did not understand was the long stride he had taken inthe moment when he felt and resented her unspoken criticism. Heretoforehis attitude had been one of expressed and sincere indifference to theopinions others held of him. He wanted them to like him, but he didn'tcare a hang whether or not they approved of him. Now, suddenly, hewanted Sonya's respect as well as her liking. The discovery added to hismental confusion.
If Sonya, when she entered the sick-room, was shocked by the change inthe appearance of her new friend, she showed no sign of it. Sitting downbeside the _chaise longue_, she entered briskly upon a description ofthe recent experiences of Samuel. When she left the hospital the housesurgeon was obediently endeavoring to look down the throat of Hullen R.J., and every nurse on Samuel's floor was scuttering in and out of hisroom. Nevertheless the Infant, though graciously accepting theseattentions, had demanded and received Sonya's personal assurance thatthe particular game of the morning was not to be repeated. There was anunpleasant element in that game which grown-ups might not notice butwhich he, Samuel, had caught on to.
Louise laughed and expressed a hope that Samuel would now be able tobreathe without disturbing his neighbors. Sonya came to the real purposeof her visit.
"He and his mother are going back to Devon House Saturday," she said,"but I've got to stay in New York for a few months, on account of myliterary galumphings. I wondered if you--if it would be convenient foryou--to put me up. I hate hotels and--"
Louise lay silent for a moment. Then she reached out and took Sonya'shand.
"Yes, you unskilful prevaricator," she said. "You may come--and see methrough."
Sonya held the hand tightly in her own.
"There's one thing more," she went on, hesitatingly. "Laurie and Mr.Bangs and I wondered if perhaps you wouldn't feel more comfortable ifMr. Warren came home. You know he himself would want to--"
Louise closed her eyes.
"Yes," she said, "Bob would want to, if he knew."
She was silent for so long that Sonya began to think she was not to havethe answer to her question. Perhaps Mrs. Ordway was leaving the decisionto her.
But to leave to others decisions that concerned herself was not LouiseOrdway's habit. Instead, she was fighting a battle in which the lifelongdevotion of a supremely self-centered nature was struggling with anew-born unselfishness. Though new-born, it was strong, as the invalid'snext words showed.
"If I were calling him back from anything but his honeymoon," she saidat last, "I'd do it. But he's utterly happy. His letters show that, inevery line. I want him to stay so, as long as he can. I want hishoneymoon to be long drawn out and perfect." Her manner changed.
"I have an idea that perhaps, after all, I'll be here when he getsback," she added more lightly. "Life still has its interests. But, if Ihappen not to be here, tell him why I didn't cable."
"I will tell him," Sonya promised.
Neither of them referred to the subject again.